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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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Copyrighted by 

OWEN E. LONGSDORF, 

1885. 

All Rights Reserved. 



PREFACE. 



Dear reader, if there is anywhere in all the wide universe 
a place more delightful than the dim Region of Dreams, I 
know it not. Its rosy mountains and hazy valleys ; 
Its white cities, its whispering groves and bubling waters ; 
Its vapory personages and sacred associations — everything 
to delight the eye, please the ear and feast the imagination. 

Do you ever revel among those purple valleys, where 
cooling zephyrs ceaslessly sing to the sweet flowers,? If 
you do, then can you understand why it is I go there so 
often — why it is I would always abide there. 

Here let me sing you a few songs that I gleaned from the 
mystic personages who dwell in the soft lights of that delect- 
able region ; — but they are dreams and I wish not to be mis- 
understood. 

I do not assume them to be essays in science, nor phil- 
osophy, nor are they gems of poetry. They are what they 
are — thoughts that came floating to me from the misty 
Realms of Dreams and were written down, prefaced with a 
short tale and published. Such is the whole history of this 
little book. 

Brother dreamers, I bid you welcome to the first fruits 
of my solitary revels. 



O. E. L. 



Williamsport, Pa., June, 1885. 



"He must remember that while he is a descendant of the 
past, he is parent of the future; and that his thoughts are 
as children born to him, which he may not carelessly let 
die. He, like every other man, may properly consider him- 
self as one of the myriad agencies through whom works 
the Unknown Cause; and when the Unknown Cause pro- 
duces in him a certain belief, he is thereby authorized to 
profess and act out that belief." — Herbert Spencer. 




THE TALE. 



In the summer of 1884, I had business call me for some 
months to our sister state Ohio. I was stopping in a small 
town along the great river, some few miles below Marietta, 
where I had rented two rooms, well furnished and alone, 
over a store in the business quarters. Here it was this 
strange experience befell me of which I am about to write. 

I have no habits whereby I can account for this, as I 
never use liquors of any kind, nor tobacco ; neither do I 
know the taste of opium, morphine or absinthe, and I never 
walk in my sleep. I am by no means a dreamer either, but 
am extremely practical ; and, above all, as I have never had 
time nor the inclination to read much, I would be incapable 
of composing this. 

Now, concerning, these so-called "Mound Builders," I 
never before knew nor cared to know anything about them. 

It was Tuesday, the fifth day of August, 1 884. Having 
been out of town on business, I passed the night in return- 
ing home. I never could sleep on the train , so, when I 
reached my rooms I was very tired and not feeling very well. 
My matters were not satisfactory either, and I was some 
what out of humor. — These things I tell you so you may 
know in what frame of mind I was. 

Well, thinking I should sleep better if I took my break- 
fast, I went out to the restaurant — carelessly leaving my 
door unlocked as usual. If I remember rightly, I ate noth- 
ing more than an egg, a little bread and drank a glass of milk, 



6 THE TALE. 

as I never touch coffee nor tea. When I returned I found 
a small package on my table and this note : 

Dear Harold: — 

Yesterday we opened one of the ancient mounds 
on my farm. Among other relics of the ancient Mound 
Builders we found this small statue or idol I here send you. 
Please to accept it as a memento of your visit to our state. 

From your father's friend, 

Eric Von Stein. 

As I said before, I am very practical and the odd or an- 
tique never have had much charm for me. But, of course, 
I was pleased to know that Mr. Von Stein so kindly re- 
membered the son of his old college chum, and I intended 
to call some time during the day to thank him. 

I untied the package and found therein a small statue — 
the figure of a man seated upon a ball, a graceful and loose 
flowing robe over his shoulders ; his head bent a little for- 
ward, apparently engaged in reading from the open book 
upon his knees. The whole was not over six inches high, 
and was cut from a hard pink and white tinted stone. It 
was beautiful in proportion and finish, and, I thought it 
would be a very acceptable gift to sister Cora, who, from a 
child had had a mania for ancient things. 

I placed it upon my table. As I passed across the room, 
I looked in a tall mirror and there saw the reflection of the 
idol or statue, and it appeared as if covered with a thin 
gauze veil. I turned around — what do you think I saw? 
A beautiful halo of purple and golden light encircling its 
now lifted head! 

Remember I am not in the least given to superstition, but 
I did see these things though I never can hope to account 
for them. However, I was not in the slightest degree fright- 
ened, but was filled with astonishment and a prying curios- 
ity. 



THE TALE. 



I drew my chair before the table and watched the image, 
thinking, perhaps my friend had prepared some good joke, 
and was somewhere near to enjoy it. I was soon unde- 
ceived. It raised its eyes and fastened them upon mine — in 
a moment those glittering orbs held me as if in a trance. I 
became dizzy, and a great cloud of purple and black played 
over the statue and hid it all but its sinister eyes. Then I 
became free, careless, unconscious to everything but the 
feeling that some awful power held me in a terrible bondage ! 

That was on Tuesday morning. When I awakened or re- 
gained consciousness it was Thursday evening. On my 
table lay a pile of manuscript in my own hand writing ; a 
note folded and addressed to me, also in my own hand, and 
a pile of pink and white dust where had stood the statue. 

I opened the note and read: 

"I, Zhangkiita Ghaki,* of royal lineage and high priest 
at the temple Colzha in the city of Iidelya, in the vale of 
Pothii in the land of Tchakapan, served the Lord of All 
from childhood. I it is whose will has kept the atoms of 
this image from disintegration ; I it is whose will holds thee 
under my control and causes thee to write what I shall dic- 
tate, or shall read from Ziita Kii the book of songs I hold 
upon my knees. But know you, not from malice do I bind 
thy will to my influence, but from that great love I have for 
all my fellow men ! You are of a race that in my day I 
never knew; but there was a prophesy among my people 
that some day — some time we should become no more 
upon the face of the earth ; our country should become des- 
olate, and they who come after us know naught of refine- 
ment, morality or enlightenment; our cities and temples 
and palaces crumble away and return to the dust ; but from 
the mystic lands beyond the rolling Zenwabacco should 
come the seeds of a new race. It has been ! Glory be ever 




THE TALE. 



to Thee, Thou Soul in whose eye are the destinies of 
nations ! 

Here copy from the book "On Kopha," — 'tis a prophesy 
of one Inmiitha, a good man and a Seer, who lived six 
hundred years before my vision saw the light of day. 



"And nations are as men, — are born, and rise, 

And live until their vital forces fail 

With age or over much indulgence; then 

They die and pass to dark oblivion ; 

And other nations who may know them not 

Arise and live, then too pass from the earth. 

you who dwell in fair Azcocapan, 
Beware lest you be wasting vital force 

And this which I have dreamed shall come to pass : 

1 dreamed I saw this mighty land as from 

A mountain. From her heart came one whose face 

Was sad, and who went teaching truth and love. 

And I beheld the nations cast their gods 

Of massy gold and silver in the pot, 

And mould them into coins, to pay the priests 

Who served the God this sad faced prophet taught. 

But soon my dream was changed, and men were weak 

And fallen into vice and foolishness; 

So, of the nations in Azcocapan 

Were all but one gone down the silent past ; 

And this, — Othteca, moved before a horde 

Of naked savages, and found retreat 

Upon the plains of Methiicoco in 

The distant lands beneath the southern sun. 

And I beheld your cities and your works 

Go crumbling into dust, and nought remained 

But here and there a mound to tell your tale. 

So ages chased each other from the scene 

Until, from out the east a new race came 




And conquered back to culture once again 
This savage land, and made a country where 
The people grew to wondrous intellect. 

And I, Inmiitha, had another dream 

Wherein I saw this new race pass through woes 

And wars and civil strife, but in the end 

Came holy peace and reason. Then the mind 

Was raised and truly throned above all else; 

And nature's secrets were made known to light 

And true religion entered in the world. 

And men had learned the laws that govern soul — 

So death had terrors for them never more ; 

And mind communicated with the mind 

Of whom it would, and all the world was bound 

Into a common family and tongue." 



That prophesy is almost all fulfilled. This which I 
shall now cause thee to write, is the Ziita Kii or book of 
Sacred Songs, wherein are found the teachings of our lord 
Ahmiina, who was born but eighty years after the awful 
earthquake convulsed the world, and sank Ata Thontii for- 
ever under the briny billows of the Zenwabacco. 

And now, write and give unto the world this which I 
have given unto thee; and, in the realm of shades where 
thou shalt come after thy body dieth, there will I meet thee 
and show thee many beautiful things to delight the eye, 
and tell thee many things to please the ear." 



I was bewildered — what could it all mean? Hastily put- 
ting on my hat, I gathered up the manuscript and note and 
hurried down the town to Mr. Van Steins. He was at 
home. I told him all that I knew of the facts and showed 
him the papers. I need not say that shortly he too was 
very much excited. After some consideration he bade me 




THE 



HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 



The history of him — the Holy Man 
Ahmiina, written by himself before 
He passed into the realm of shades. 
Who triumphed over sin and selfishness 
And sacrificed himself and his desires ; 
Who purified his sold in solitude 
And contemplation, so he might indeed 
Become a teacher to his fellow men. 
The manuscript from which this copy came 
Is to be seen among the sacred things 
Within the holy temple Kwatziico 
Which overlooks the lake Okiini near 
The sacred city of Oahlii. Here 
Our lord was bom, and here his ashes rest 
Within a box of gold incrusted with 
A wealth of jewels priceless and most rare. 




Where glints the waters of the lake 
Okiini, in the Holy Vale 
Of Tchintiipec — there was I born. 
Oahlii, holiest of all 
The cities in Azcocapan, 
Where stands the grandest temple man 
Has ever built. It's granite walls, 
Its twenty gilded towers point 
Their golden fingers to the sky ; 
Its inner walls of massy gold 



12 



HISTORY OF All M UNA. 



And silver, porphyry and glass, 
Made like a cavern hanging full 
Of stalactites. And all about 
That holy place a silence, awe 
And mystic presence sat. And, too, 
In that most holy temple, dwelt 
Among the solemn lights, the soul 
And golden figure of the god 
Hozolla ; and, at each new moon 
His spirit left the idol and 
Was seen to mingle in the halls 
Among the worshipers. Yes, oft 
While serving at his altar, I 
Have seen his shadow pass from out 
The precious statue and ascend, 
And smiling hang above the lake 
Until the crescent hid behind 
The Cocal Allii mountain peaks ; 
And then, returning silently 
To his abode within the breast 
Of his rich statue, from its eyes 
Of opal looked he forth until 
Another crescent moon was born. 

O what a sacred place was that 
To me who loved the awful and 
Sublime ; on whom the earthquake shock 
Or cyclone never wrought a fear, 
But ever came as something from 
The Soul behind the visible ! 



In fair Oahlii's granite walls 
Was I, Ophii Ahmiina born. 
My father, — Ophii Tarnah, one, 
A wealthy merchant who was known 
O'er all this land Azcocapan, 



HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 



13 



Whose mighty caravans had gone 

Beyond the Alia Gawii range 

Of mountains, to the distant lands 

Along the Zenwabacco sea 

From which the morning sun is born 

And westward, o'er the prairies, o'er 

The Cocal Allii mountains, rich 

In precious metals and in views, 

To where the Ilmanocco beats 

Upon Azcoca's western shore. 



The tales his agents used to tell 
Of these strange mountains, lands and seas, 
Were food for fancy, and my young 
Imagination soon unrolled 
And I became a dreaming man. 
This happy life was soon to pass — 
Ere I was seven years of age 
The demon of the yellow plague — 
Traa Cyah, came from out the south 
And smote the dwellers of our land. 
Alas ! ere winter brought her frost 
To help us beat the demon from 
The earth, I was an orphan ; and 
As was the way in those dark times, 
My lot was cast among the slaves 
Who knew no parents and no kin, 
And all my father's property 
Reverted to the royal store. 
So was I sold and bought, and sold 
As though I neither felt nor thought ; 
And yet, must I remember that 
My languages that serve me now 
So well, I would have never known. 
But, being with the common men 
I learned the common, vulgar tongues. 



14 



HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 



In many lands have I abode: — 
In Yiia, Tolta, Chiia, Zyng, 
Popola, Othtepan, and Ghu ; 
Othteca, Iivoh, Woolh and Psaih ; 
Almoola, Ashti, Buhr and Zhii, 
And many cities, which to name 
Were useless and of little eood. 




O, you who read, if you indulge 
In day dreams and a happy world 
Of unreality you build 
Around you, and in that abide 
And hate to come in the cold world 
Where things are practical and stern, 
Then can you feel with me whose life 
Was burdened with a ceaseless toil, 
And knew and felt myself a slave. 

At last, when thirteen years of age 
I found myself again at home — 
At home ? Ah, no ! but in the place, — 
Oahlii by Okiini's breast 
Where I was born, and where I spent 
My happy days of infancy 
The son of one, the wealthiest 
In all the realm, except the king. 
And now had I returned — a slave ! 
Away from home for six short years 
And then return — a slave — a slave ! 
O what a life was that to me 
By nature keen and sensitive ; 
And every time I sought for death 
Some cruel hand would stay my deed. 

But, once I wandered to the lake 
When all the world was sleeping 'neath 



HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 



15 



A starry sky, and when I came, 

I would have found eternal peace 

Beneath Okiini's glassy waves ; 

But, ere I sank the second time, 

Tanto — an aged priest and wise 

I hope. I never shall forget ! — 

He, musing in the silence, saw 

Me spring and heard my splash, and from 

The lake he took me to his cell 

Within that solemn temple, and 

When morning came he paid my price 

And told me I was free. I loved 

That bearded face with all the love 

A poor, unhappy child could give ! 

Then, weeping as I kissed his hand 

And thanked him for his good to me, — 

About to take my leave — he bent 

And caught me in his arms, and pressed 

Me to his heart with kisses, and 

He told me how he loved me. O, 

I need not tell the happy years 

I served Hozolla, so to be 

Continually in the sight 

And presence of that holy man ; 

Nor that he taught me all the lore 

And sacred stories of the times 

When men knew naught of sin 

And sadness. And the sciences 

Of plants and flowers, rocks and hills ; 

Of life and death ; — the sciences 

Of mind and matter, soul and flesh ; 

The motions of the stars and suns 

That all the endless ethers fill 

And are the atoms of the form 

Of one— the holy, Perfect All ; 

And other things of moment and 



l6 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 

Of passtimc he had told me. But, 
One morning, going to his cell 
I found him silent, cold and dead, 
But on his face the smile of peace 
That never left him e'en in death. 

I need not tell you of the days 
And weary nights I passed before 
The golden image of the god ; 
And, though I would deceive myself, 
I found no consolation there. 
And then, Traa Cyah came again — 
The demon of the yellow plague, 
And with him, famine gaunt and bare. 

0, how they revelled in that realm! 
And Death and Hate, Despair and fear — 
Ran riot in that sacred realm ! 

We priests then closed the temple doors 
To keep the frantic populace 
From out the holy place, and then 
We clung around the golden god. 
And yet, Contagion spared us not, 
But, one by one, when stricken, crawled 
Away among the solemn shades, 
So dying they would not offend 
The sight of him whose soul abode 
Within the golden idol, and 
Who watched us from his opal eyes. 

At last, from those four hundred priests 

1, even I — Ahmiina, I 
Alone remained alive to keep 
The sacred fire burning bright! 
And those three hundred ninety-nine 
In that great cavernous abode 

Of gods, lay dead polluting those 





Most sacred, consecrated halls. 

I left the golden image when 

The night was falling, and the moon 

Just new looked in the lattice work 

Upon the roof, as though she called 

Hozolla from his golden form. 

I watched him ; but the crescent sank 

Behind the Cocal Allii peaks, 

And still his spirit tarried in 

The idol. Then suspicion came, 

And I began to think that all 

Was but the product of a trick, 

And so I left to search for food. 

Alas ! I found naught there to eat 

Or drink ; and O, my horrible thirst, 

And hunger gnawing like a wolf! 

I rose, and climed a tower, where 

I sat and looked about upon 

The holy city — all was still, 

No sound nor token of a life. 

But O, the awful sight my eyes 

Beheld below me in the streets : 

The pavements, streets and doorsteps far 

As eye could see, lay full of dead 

And festering forms — but all was still : 

The morning sun looked down upon 

A city silent as a tomb ! 



Then I descended, faint and weak, 
Into the vaulted hall where sat 
The golden idol of the god ; 
And lifting up my voice, I called, 
In hope there might be one to hear 
And help me ope' the ponderous doors 
That shut me in this sacred jail, 
And in this fetid atmosphere. 



iS 



HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 



I called in vain, no answer came — 
The echoes only ha-haed back 
And mocked. And then I realized 
I stood within a temple, in 
A city of unhurried dead! 

Ah, soon the night came creeping on, 
And with it came a beating storm 
Of wind and rain ; and all the sky 
Illumined by the vivid glare 
Of lightning seemed a pit of fire. 
And O ! the echoes of the voice 
Of thunder in the hollow hall 
Near deafened me. — I knelt before 
The great Hozolla and I prayed — 
O you who read, if you have known 
The deepest anguish man can feel, 
Then can you sympathize with me 
Who waited, knowing death was nigh, 
But yet — who longed so much to live ! 



O how I grovelled on the floor 
Before that lifeless god of gold ; 
And how I prayed until the sweat 
Rolled from me in a stream, and blood 
Fell also from my brow upon 
The jewelled pavement at the throne! 
You ask me: "did Hozalla hear 
And give me comfort in my woe ?" 

brother, I must answer — no ! 

1 must tell you, how, doubtful of 
The power of Hozolla whom 

I once adored, I filled with hate 
And mad resentment, so I turned 
And smote the golden idol twice 




Upon the breast, and blasphemed, till 
I thought I saw him frown from out 
His opal eyes; — and then, in fear 
And trembling lest he should resent 
The mad dishonor to him, there 
I fell upon my face and swooned. 
I knew no more until the night 
Was gone and rosey morn was born. 
Upon the mighty doors of brass 
And gold, I heard the sound of blows ; 
And all about the temple surged 
A sea of men and women, drunk 
With indignation at the god 
Who called for prayer and offerings, 
And gold, but gave no good return, 
Nor ever saved them from the plague. 



At last the massy doors fell in, 
And I, who hid among the folds 
Of crimson tapestry behind 
The god, — beheld the angry crowd 
Come, rushing in the presence, wild 
And full of blasphemy and hate. 
They pulled the holy statue down 
From out the ruby throne upon 
The jewelled floor, where they reviled 
And broke it in their furious hate ; 
But when the night had come again 
I slipped away, and rested not 
Till I had left the city far, 



No, this to you is nothing but 
A tale unpleasant; and we all 
Imagine that we have enough 
Of troubles of our own, and want 
No other's heaped upon our hearts ! 



20 HISTORY OF AHM1INA. 

But, if I tell you not the state 
In which I grew to manhood, then 
You can not understand the wants 
That drove me from the midst of men 
To look for solitude, and rest. 



So the holy man has written 
Of his life from birth to manhood. 
! the sorrows, pains and troubles 
He has met and conquered bravely. 
He who knows no dissappointments , 
Sorrows, losses, pains or troubles, 
Can not sympathize for others : 
He alone holds perfect manhood 
Who has risen from affliction. 
So, brother, good Ahmiina — 
He who passed through sin and sorrow, 
He is able to advise you. 
Read now, how he was a skeptic 
In a lonely cavern dwelling ; 
But his spirit, still persisting 
He shoidd know the Holy Being 
Who is All and Soid of all things, 
Never ceased to reason with him 
Till he found the Holy Heart. 
Read ! — -for here is what he wrote us 
For a light to lead us upward 
To the realms of truth and knowledge. 



Away where Nonno's waters wash 
Along the Cocal Alii's feet, 
Ere winding through the level plains 
To pour his tribute in the lap 
Of Minta Siiva — mighty queen 
Of all the rivers in the land ; 
Away there in the mountain wilds 
I dwelt, — a cavern for my home. 
And there I lived and pondered on 
The worth and source of life ; the end — 
If end there be, to all ; and in 
My heart a thousand questions sprang 
For answer. Twenty years had come 
And gone since I this lonely cave 
Had made my home, before my soul 
Had learned a lesson of pure truth : 
Alas! — too much depended I 
Upon the sacred books and tales 
O holy writing ; and my mind 
Was never free, and reason dared 
Not yet assert her right to rule. 
Ah, twenty years ! and long, long years 
So full of change — my beard, all white 
With sorrow and old age, hung low 
Upon my breast. O, all my days 
Were contemplation, and my nights 
Were longings after truth and love. 

But once, when all the world was still 
Except my weary heart, I went 
And sat myself beneath a pine 
Whose needles, smiling to the moon, 
Kept whispering and whispering 
O what ? — Ah, what, I could not hear 
Then I arose, and climbing down 
The rocky bank, I stood beside 




The rolling Nonno — everything 

But me that night seemed full of joy : 

The river rippled laughingly 

Along his rushy banks ; the reeds 

Were nodding to the laughing grass ; 

And over all the silver moon 

Down looking poured her flood of light. 

But I, from prayer and fasting, weak 

Fell fainting on my face among 

The grasses on the river bank. 

When I revived I heard a sound 
As of a thousand whisperings — 
I listened — 'twas a voice of praise 
From out a million tiny throats ; 
But yet I could not understand. 
I raised my head above the grass 
And lo, I heard no more the song 
Or chant of praise and happiness. 
So down I lay my head once more 
Among the reeds and grasses there, 
And lo, I heard the chant again ! 
And then, unto my waiting soul 
A deeper understanding came; 
So, listening it did comprehend 
And to my reason could translate 
The chant the reeds and grasses sang. 
So did I find that happiness 
The pine tree needles knew with all 
The sinless things of dust, what I 
These weary years had sought 
And sought, and yet had never found 
Until, I, falling in the dust, 
The knowledge of the dust had found — 
That knowledge I had sought in vain 
Among the sacred books of men. 
Then all my soul was glad — for all 



My hopes returned. And down beside 
A pine whose needles sighed in song, 
I threw myself, and in the grass 
I burried all my face and mind. 

O brother ! anguish keen and sharp 
Had been my lot from birth. But now 
No more I doubt the Holy One 
Whose word is found in all — in all ! 
That voice of love spake through the grass 
And through the running river ; — all 
The wide creation sounds that voice ! 

here I write the truth I heard 
Through nature from the Holy Soul ; 
But more I heard I did not know 
The meaning of — for, who is pure 
And wise enough to comprehend 
The workings of the Mighty Heart? 

And now, before I cease to write, 

1 ask, that, after I am gone 
To that invisible abode 

Where all my fathers shades abide, 
Will Tchina Kiida, — whom I love, 
The son of Tchina Arnin prince 
Of Chiia, — will he take the task 
Of publishing my manuscript, 
So all my followers may know 
The faith, and have my history ? 
For he, of all my friends, has held 
The deepest place within my heart ; 
And he was first to dare renounce 
The false idolatry, and come 
As my disciple and my friend. 

And now, to thee dear Kiida, yet 
One word before I lay away 



My pen : — My pilgrimage began 

With thorns and tears and many ills, 

Among a pagan race, and one 

Whose morals and enlightenment — 

Alas ! were lax and of poor quality. 

But look about thee at the change : 

Not thirty years have flown away 

Since I began to teach the faith, 

Yet now, o'er all Azcocapan, — 

From Ilmanocco on the west 

To Zenwabacco on the east ; 

And from the great lakes on the north 

To Methiicoco and the sea 

Toltoloc in the golden south, 

Is scarce a town or city but 

Has heard the faith. My Kiida, you 

Must now become the guide, — and lead, 

O lead my breathren forth to truth 

And justice, love and purity ! 

And I shall watch thee from the realms 

Beyond this seeming solid world. — 

Farewell, — in peace and love, farewell ! 



. So ends the history of one who met 
The troubles of a troubled world, and turned 
Them so they worked to his advantage. 



Now my brother, let me tell 
How Ahmiina walked the earth ; 
How he suffered hunger, thirst, 
To alleviate the pains 
And the dusk of ignorance 
In his evil fellow men. 
O the good that he has done ; 
the sorrow he has cured ; 
the pain that he has stopped ; 
the tears that he has dried ; 
As he wandered up and down 
Through this wide Azcocapan ! 
Let the weary ashes rest, 
In his jeiveled urn of gold ! 
Let his name forever ring 
With the praise of multitudes ! 
For he brought us peace and rest, 
Love and light and holiness ! 

Let me copy for your pleasure — 
For your pleasure and your learning, 
All the truth he heard from Spirit 
Singing through the tongues of nature. 
Hear the chant the grasses chanted 
When he fainted by the river — 
By the rolling river Nonno. 
Not his mortal ears that heard it 
But his spirit ears and reason ! 
Hear the chant the grasses chanted 
When he fainted by the river — 
By the rolling river Nonno. 



"Listen, listen lonely mortal, 
Bending down your new attention — 
We the humble grasses 'round you, 
We have seen you all these long years 



26 



HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 



Bend before your cave in weeping. 
We have rustled when you passed us, — 
We have called for your attention — 
All in vain — in vain we called you, 
For your mind and soul and longings 
Ever supplicated Silence — 
But the Silence cannot speak ! 

Lonely brother, lonely brother, 
Hear us happy grasses singing 
Of the love that never dieth ; 
Of the hopes that stir within us ; 
Of the life that soon must leave us — 
But will fill a higher being 
With the life and soul and selfhood 
Of the Mighty Soul of All. 

Listen ! you whose ear is bending 
Here among us chanting grass blades ; 
You, who longed and languished vainly 
For the Holy Heart and Real ; 
You, who looked to books and fables 
For the voice of the Almighty ; — 
Come ! O come, and we will tell you 
How to seek Him — how to find him. 

When you want the rolling river 
Winding through the verdant valleys, 
Do you seek the painter's canvass — 
Do you seek the works of art ? 
When your heart is sad and broken 
And you lack the light of love, 
Do you seek the poet's volume 
Filled with songs of pain and pleasure ? 
When you wish to hold communion 



J 



With the Holy Heart of All, 
Should you seek the priestly story 
Or the tales of tardy tongues ? 

O no ! brother — O no ! brother — 
He who fills the All forever ; 
He from whom all things are taken ; 
He in whom all things have being, — 
He is in you and around you — 
In all things and all things of Him ! 
He should not be sought in fables 
Nor in prayer nor supplication. 
Would you seek Him — would you know Him ? 
Learn His tongue : — the voice of nature ! 
Never uses He a language 
Like the sons of men are using, 
But He speaks forever — ever 
In His laws and works and silence. 
They whose hearts and eyes are open 
To th' influences of nature, 
If their souls and minds are holy 
And unselfish and unbiased, 
Can not help but see the working 
Of a pure and perfect plan. 
All must needs look cold and cruel 
To the eye that scans the surface; 
But, to him who deep examines 
All works to a perfect plan. 



O Ahmiina — O Ahmiina 
Hearken to the Holy Heart: 
He will speak if you will listen 
For He loves you — ah, He loves you !" 



2 8 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 



So the happy grasses sang 
To Ahmiiua's spirit ears : 
And his spirit, — -filled with joy, 
Then interpreted the chant 
To his intellect and mind. 
So the happy grasses sang 
To Alimiinds spirit ears; 
When he fainted by the river — 
By the rolling river Nonno. 

0, the rapture then that caught 
Good Ahmiina's soul and self/ 
An exqidsite sea of peace, 
Crystal pure and bottomless 
Where his troubles washed away ! 
When he fainted in the dust — 
Lo, the dust had found a tongue ; 
And it told him in a chant 
How to find the Holy Heart ! 

Now I bring the Book of Gold— 
Ziita Kii the holy book, 
Wherein are the sacred songs — 
Songs from Silence, sung by Sold 
Through the tongues of Nature. 
Now I bring the Book of Gold — 
Ziita Kii the holy book, 
And before you open wide 
All its pages. Look and read 
What Ahmiina wrote for you — 
May it lead you to the truth 
And the holy Light of Lights! 



THE ZIITA KIL 



DEDICATION. 



The Ziita Kii or holy book, wherein 
Are writ the teachings of the Holy Man 
Ahmiina ; he, who triumphed over sin 
And self, and in the end attained such peace 
And purity that he might speak to God. 
The Ziita Kii or Songs of Silence, which 
Ahmiina heard within his soul and wrote 
To lead his fellow men to love and light 
And sweet communion with the Holy Soul 
Who is indeed the All and Soul of All. 

O you who read, if in your heart abides 
A soul that longs for purity and peace, 
I pray you, give attention to the thoughts 
Here written, — seek to understand, and pause 
Ere you accept as truth what here is wrote — 
For, if it came not from the Holy Soul, 
A sinless soul must feel it to be false. 
But, if this teaching come from that One Soul 
Who nlleth all and in whom all abides, 
A sinless soul must feel it to be truth, 
And know it emanates from that Pure One — 
The Perfect Soul and Essence of the All. 



THE ZIITA KII. 



Would you seek for truth and knowledge, 
Would you seek for light and reason 
Pause and read, for here is wisdom. 
To yourself there is addition ; 
From yourself there is subtraction — 
But the sum — the sum of all things 
Never changes, never changes : 
Ah, the sum of all is — God ! 

Life is but a great Progression — ■ 
'Tis addition, 'tis addition 
And a conquest over trouble. 
Death is but a Retrogression — 
'Tis subtraction, 'tis substraction : 
A submission to the passions 
And the low desires and feelings. 
In yourself your fate is planted — 
None can sink and none can raise you 
If you be yourself your master. 
O my brother — O my brother, 
If you doubt me, pause and reason ; 
But the words you hold before you — 
They are wisdom — they are wisdom ! 
Let me tell you — let me tell you — 
All is pure and all is holy ; 
There is nothing that is evil 
In itself or its intention — 
All is to you what you make it. 



32 



THE ZIITA KII. 



I, Ahmiina, musing wandered 
Through ravines and lonely canyons, 
Where the Nonno's waters winding 
Murmured hopeful of the sea; 
And my heart was full within me — 
Filled with peace that knew no pain ; 
For the silent soul within me 
Knew the unseen Soul of All. 



There I sat me on a boulder, 
Torn from out the rocky walls 
High above the limpid Nonno ; 
And I musing watched the water 
Rolling ever toward the sea ; 
But my soul was in communion 
With the Soul that filleth All. 

O these mystic, unseen forces — 
O what are they — O what are they ? 
And the soul within me answered : 
"This is Mind that ruleth all things — 
Yea, the Mighty Mind of All ! 
All has sprung from Soul and Spirit, 
Unto that it would return, 
But the Sleepless Soul of Silence 
Holds all bound to work His will ! 

Man is like the running river : 
Passions are the mighty forces 
That forever draw him downward 
Till he lose his conscious selfhood 
In the sea from which he sprang ; 
But his pure desires and feelings 
Are the sunbeams warm and golden — 
They would make him purer, better — 
They would raise him to the sky. 



THE ZIITA KII. 33 



All is but a simple problem 
If you care to understand it ; 
'Tis addition and subtraction — 
You may add or take away. 
Sin and evil — these are nothing 
But subtractions from your being ; 
But a good thing — that is something 
Added to your soul and selfhood. 
If your passions be the stronger 
Then be sure your soul is dying — 
You are losing conscious being 
In the Being of the All. 
But, if pure and holy instincts 
Be the rulers of your spirit, 
Then be sure your soul is growing 
To a higher, purer station 
In the Being of the All! 

Everything seeks for its level — 
'Tis a universal law. 
And I tell you— O, I tell you 
Surely everything shall find it !" 



my brother, my brother 
Now I write the Songs from Silence. 
These are what the Spirit whispered 
In the rustle of the grasses ; 
In the rolling of the river ; 
In the rising of the vapors 
From the glassy river's ripples. 
These are chants the sunbeams chanted 
And the dancing sunshine sang me. 
Over all the face of nature 
There is written, there is written 
Truth and light to lead us upward! 



34 



THE ZIITA KII. 



Now 1 write the Songs from Silence 
That the Holy Spirit zuhispered 
Through the motes that dance in sunshine ; 
Through the rustle of the grasses ; 
Through the rolling of the river ; 
Through the motions of the planets ; 
Through the songs of autumn insects; 
Through the blooming of the flower — 
0, through all things I have heard them! 
Not my mortal ears that heard them — 
But the Voice sang to my spirit 
Who interpreted the chants 
To my intellect and reason ! 

Now I write, and Thou may 'st judge me, 
Holy Soul in silence dwelling; 
Guide my pen to write the truth ! 




SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



"I am Soul, from whom all things proceed. 
And ye can know Me not but through My works, 
My laws, — and on them I have stamped My word!" 



Cocal Anil's peaks were white 
In a waning crescent's light, 
And the autumn insects sang 
On the prairie Tiivasaang. 
I, Ahmiina, wandered down 
To the Nonnds waters brown 
Where I sat me down to weep 
And a lonely vigil keep. 
To my heart a longing came 
Fierce and burning as a flame : 
"0, Thou mighty Soul of All 
Hear my weeping spirit call ! 
Whisper to my waiting soul 
Where Thy peaceful waters roll — 
Whisper to my waiting heart 
Where to find Thee — where Thou art!" 
And a whispered answer rose 
Where the cooling zephyr blows 
Through the reeds and rushes sear — 
Whispered to my spirit ear. 



36 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



"Child of matter — child of spirit 
Weeping in the mellow moonlight, 
You who weep and long to know Me,— 
Go and seek Me, go and seek Me 
Where My holy laws are written. 

you know not how I love you — 
How I love you, how I love you ! 
Come and seek Me, come and seek Me 
Where My voice is heard forever. 

Lo, I never yet have spoken 
With a vo ; ce and tongue and language 
As men speak among each other, — 
For I have no tongue nor language 
And I speak not, never— never 
But in acts and laws and silence! 
Should you ask if I have spoken 
In the ages that are ended, 

1 would answer, I would answer: 
Yea, My silent voice has sounded 
And My sacred volume open 
Ever was and ever will be! 

Should you ask Me who can hear Me, 
I should answer, I should answer: 
He who thinks and cares to reason 
Of the holy things around him — 
He shall hear the Voice of Silence 
And be guided upward, upward 
By the tongueless Voice of Nature! 
Would you ask Me, would you ask Me 
Who may read the open volume 
Wherein all My laws are written, 
I should answer, I should answer: 
He may read who cares to read it — 
All is free to him who seeks it ! 
Let Me tell you, let Me tell you— 
For I love you — O, I love you ! — 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 37 

On the starry sky is written 
Countless pages of My volume ; 
In the desert — in the ocean; 
In the forest, on the prairie ; 
In the bowels of the mountains — 
Everywhere spread out before you 
Lies My truth unlocked for all ! 
There is nought but has upon it 
Prints from My creative fingers — 
There is nought but has within it 
Truth to lead you upward to Me! 

So the Holy Heart of All 
Answered to my spirit call ; 
But as yet unsatisfied 
Then my sold looked up and cried : 
" Thou that loveih me so well 
Tell me where Thy Soul doth dzvell — 
For I woidd that I could be 
Ever in commune with Thee /" 
And the Spirit answer gave 
In the glimmer of the wave ; 
And the twinkle of a star 
Sang the echo from afar : 

"Mighty space is endless, endless — 
If not so, what lies beyond it? , 

Can the eye of man e'er measure 
That which has no bound nor limit — 
That which ends not never, never, 
Stretching off in all directions 
Boundless — boundless, never ending? 
Ah, no eye can ever pierce it 
And no mind conceive its limit. 
Here Ahmiina, — son Ahmiina, 
Here dwell I, the Silent Spirit, 



From whom all things have proceeded. 
Ask Me not where ye shall find Me — 
Rather ask Me where I am not! 
Then Ahmiina, I should answer: 
There is not that where I am not — 
For I dwell in All forever — 
Yea, I fill the All forever!" 

When the Spirit hushed its whisper 

In the silent night. 
And I only heard the murmur 

Of the zephyrs light, 
Then my soul arose and cried: 
"0 Thou All Enwrapping Essence 

From which all things came, 
Tell — tell me, I beseech Thee, 

What may be Thy name f" 

And I heard the sound of laughter 

Mingled with a sigh, 
Like the t ustle of dead grasses 

When the winds rush by. 
0, my spirit shook and trembled 
And I shrank within a shadow 

Being sore afraid, 
But the Spirit gave me answer — 

This is what He said : 

"You who ask Me what My name is- 
Ask Me what My proper name is, 
I will answer with a question: 
What are names for, O Ahmiina, 
That you think perhaps I bear one? 
Are not names but to distinguish 
And know one thing from another ? — 
Since the earth has one moon only 



Then no proper name is needed; 

Since one sky and one sky only 

Wraps the world in tints of azure, 

It no proper name is given. 

Now, you know the heathen people 

Worship Me as many beings — 

Hence they must have names to call them 

To distinguish one from others. 

But I tell you — son Ahmiina, 

That no name have I or will have ! 

I am All — the One — the Real, 

Pure Perfection, in whom dwelleth 

All that was or is or will be ! 

By My works shall all things know Me — 

But My name no being knoweth ! 

Lo, I only am the Ruler 

And the Source of All forever !" 

So the All Containing Soul — 
In whose Being all things roll, — 
So His silent Spirit. spake 
Where the withered rushes shake. 
And I wondering, turned away 
As the coming king of day 
Bade the gleaming queen of night 
Hide behind the mountain hight. 

And 1 sat in the glooms of my cave — 
All alone in the glooms of my cave 
When a tempest rushed down the ravine 
And awoke the mad demons of night. 
I was sad and I said to my soul: 
"0 my soul, I am lonely and sad 
And the tempest destroyeth my thoughts ! 
my soul, seek communion with Soul 
And interpret His whispers to me /" 
So my soul turned away with a smile 



40 SON<;s FROM SILENCE. 



And she whispered soft into the gloom : 

"0 Thou holy One dwelling in All, 

We would seek sweet communion with Thee /" 

And a sound like the sigh of the wind 

Then arose in the glooms of my cave, 

And the tones of a musical Voice 

Speaking unto my soul and to me : 

"O My children, darling children 
Come and hold communion with Me ; 
Open now your eyes and see Me ; 
Open now your ears and hear Me ; 
Open now your minds and know Me 
For My Soul dwells ever with you — 
Ever in and all around you ! 
He that truly dwelleth in Me 
And in whom I find a dwelling, — 
He shall never know an ending 
But may wander, but may wander 
Through My wide domain forever; 
And My Spirit shall be with him 
Even where so e'er he goeth ! 
Come My children, come and seek Me 
That you grow like unto Me — 
He that loves Me — he that loves Me — 
He that likes to hold communion 
With My Soul and with My nature, — 
He shall grow like unto Me ! 
He that loves Me shall be like Me ■ 
For association changeth 

Much your minds and thoughts and feelings ! 
O the man whose friends are evil — 
How can he be pure and holy ? 
Think not you can hide your evil 
From the Awful Eye which seeth 
All that is and was and will be — 




For that Sleepless Soul is in you. 
Know you not your thoughts and actions 
And your words and inmost feelings, 
As the waves upon the ocean 
Travel from you toward the shore ? 
But this ocean knows no ending — 
Knows no surface, bed nor beach ; 
And the waves upon this ocean — 
Ah, they travel ever more ! 



"Let Me tell you, let Me tell you— 
Give, and unto you is given. 
He that loves is paid in loving 
Kindness and affection truly ; 
He that hates is paid in stony 
Coins of hatefulness and sorrow! 
Give, and unto you is given ; 
Take, and from you shall be taken; 
Lend, and to you shall be lended — 
Kindness give to every creature 
And all things are kind to you. 
Smile, and all the world is smiling ; 
Weep, and all the world is weeping. 
Give and take rings through all nature — 
'Tis a mighty, mighty law — 
Lo, the law of Compensation ! 



"Should you ask Me whence I started, 
I, the Holy Soul and Essence, 
Of all things that were or will be, 
I would answer, I would answer: 
Never have I had beginning, 
Never will I have an ending- — 



4~ SONGS FROM SILENCE. 

I am alway and eternal ! 

Lo, I came not, neither go I, 

But I was, I am; I will be! 

I am alway the Perfection, 

The Unchangeable Almighty! 

And My Selfhood— and My Selfhood 

Is the Mystery of Mysteries — 

Is forever and forever 

Inconceivable and silent! — 

Ye may know Me from My actions — 

But My Being, but My Selfhood 

Is inscrutable forever 

And immutable forever! 

Should you ask whence started matter 

And whence cometh all creation — 

All the suns and twinkling planets; 

All the nebulae and comets; 

All the changing constellations 

And the mighty maze of bodies 

Moving through the endless ethers; 

I would answer, I would answer: 

All this emanated from Me — 

Is a manifestation of Me — 

Is a part and portion of Me — 

Was and is and ever will be ! 

I am All, containing all things 

Through the everlasting cycles! 

I am Soul enwrapping all things — 

Permeating cosmos ever; 

And I tell you, and I tell you — 

When your spirit eyes are opened 

You shall see that matter is not: 

All is Soul— for All is of Me— 

Real, holy and eternal ! 



"When you look upon the moonbeams 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



43 



Dancing in the verdant valleys; 
Dancing o'er the rolling prairies; 
Raining o'er the mighty mountains ; 
Playing o'er the lakes and rivers ; 
There you see Me — there you see Me — 
Yet you see Me not nor can you ! 
Look upon the falling waters 
Wrapt in veils of swaying vapor; 
Hear them falling down the mountain — 
Falling, calling — calling, laughing; 
There you hear Me — there you hear Me- 
Yet you hear Me not nor can you ! 
You may find Me — you may find Me 
In the bud and bloom of flowers; 
In the running of cool waters; 
In the nodding of the grasses; 
In the perfume of the lilies; 
In the songs of bird and insect; 
In the roll of hill and mountain; 
In the movements of the planets; 
In the twinkle of the star spheres; 
In the silent sweep of comets — 
O, in all things you may find Me : 
I am Soul, enwrapping all things — 
Permeating cosmos ever ! 



"Le Me tell you— let Me tell you: 
There be none who sin against Me — 
I it is who am unchanging, — 
I it is who am almighty ; 
I it is who planned creation — 
I it is who doth control it ! 
And I tell you, and I tell you 
There be none who sin against Me ! 
All the works of sin and evil 
Harm Me not nor ever can they ! 



44 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



But the workers of the evil 

They — ah, they alone will suffer — 

For they sink their spirits deeper 

And yet deeper, and yet deeper, 

Till at last they lose their selfhood 

And their individual beings. 

Good acts serve to strengthen selfhood 

Holiness and purity, these 

Are the showers, dews and sunshine 

To the germs of soul within you ; 

But the soul that doeth evil 

Taketh from its life and being. 

And that soul shall sink forever 

In unconsciousness of selfhood 

To the Holy Heart that gave it! 

'Tis addition and subtraction — 

Though you add or take away 

Still the Sum is never altered ! 



"Would you truly be acquainted 
With the character of any, 
You should take them as a study — 
Notice all their works and actions. 
Would you wish to know them truly 
Learn the working of their minds! 
From the works they leave around them 
You can judge and know them truly — 
If their minds are full of evil 
Then their works are evil also; 
If their minds are pure and holy 
Then their works are holy also ! 
Thought must always precede action 
And the thought is as the mind is, — 
Hence, ill comes not from a pure man 
Nor from evil comes a pure thing! 




SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



Would you truly be acquainted 
With My mind and with it truly, — 
Look about you — look and reason: 
All that is I have created 
Of My Substance, of My Being ; 
And if these My works are evil 
Then must I their Source be evil ! 
For I tell you, for I tell you — 
As the work is, so the mind is — 
Thought must always precede action 
And the thought is as the mind is ! 
But remember — but remember — 
If you judge Me by creation 
Many things will rise before you 
That may seem like sin and evil ; 
But, if you will well examine — 
All things fill a perfect plan ! 
O believe Me, darling children, 
For I love you, yes, I love you ! 



"Should you ask Me if I punish 
Those who break My laws, — My children 
I should answer, I should answer : 
There is nothing in all nature 
That is punishment intended. 
Pain and trouble comes upon you 
Not to punish, but remind you 
That My laws are being broken ; 
And the greater be the trespass 
On these holy laws of nature, 
In proportion then the pain is. 
Let Me tell you, let Me tell you — 
For a wilful act of evil 
Pain or trouble comes upon you 
As a recompense or payment ; 




But, if you unwilful trespass 
On these holy laws of nature, 
Pain or trouble comes upon you 
Not to punish but remind you 
That My laws are being broken. 

Too much pain destroys the feeling — 
Watch them lest you suffer often 
And your nerves forget to tell you, 
And you lose the good reminder, 
And you keep on breaking — breaking 
Laws that were to help you higher ; 
And at last your soul goes sinking 
Downward and you lose your being. 
But, My little children, listen — 
Though I punish not nor will I, 
Yet you make My kind reminder 
Be so stern it seems to punish ; 
For, the greater be the trespass 
So the sterner the reminder. 



So the tones of that musical voice 
Spake unto my soul and to me ; 
And I know now that musical voice 
Was the voice of the Ruler of All ! 



So has our lord Ahmiina wrote the songs 
Or sacred hymns he heard the Spirit sing 
Through all His mighty works ; and then he sank 
Upon his pillow and his spirit fled 
Away in glad delight, to dwell in that 
Unknown abode where is the Holy Heart. 
His ashes now are in a golden box 
Adorned with priceless jewels, in a court 




Of Kwatziico the holy temple, in 

The city of Oahlii in the vale 

Of Tchintiipec, — according to his wish. 



I, reader — Tchina Kiida, — 
I, Ahmiinds loved disciple, 
I will here append some details 
That his teaching may be plainer. 



From the mystic sea of Spirit 
Is all else an emanation — 
You and I, the earth and planets, 
Moon and sun, and all creation — 
These were all evolved from Spirit 
And are ever more a portion 
Of that all enwrapping Real. 

Let me tell you, let me tell you : 
There is truly evolution, 
Likewise there is devolution. 
Evolution groweth selfhood : 
From the One and Single Selfhood 
Is evolved the myriad beings. 
There are laws that tend to raise you 
From unconsciousness of being 
Into true and real selfhood; 
These are what we call the good things. 
But again are other forces, 
Acts and passions, base desires, 
Which are ever tending downward 
From the consciousness of being 
Into final loss of selfhood, 
And absorption by the Spirit 
From which all at first had started ; 



48 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



These arc what we term as evil — 
Not to God, but to His creatures! 

He whose soul is climbing higher 
In the stage of conscious being, 
He has longings to be better; 
And to him 'tis far more easy 
To do good things than do evil. 
But to him whose soul is sinking 
Backward to the dark oblivion 
Evil is the stronger power — 
He is mastered by his passions 
And his selfish wants and feelings. 

O my brothers, O my brothers, — 
Look now in your hearts and feelings 
And there learn if you are rising 
To the consciousness of selfhood; 
Or if you are slowly sinking 
To the loss of soul and selfhood. 
O, return my brother, turn you — 
Once you lose your soul and being 
It is lost forever; — ever ! 

II 

He whose heart is full of sin, 
Sorrow, trouble, evil, woe, — 
How may he be brought to buy 
Purity and peace and joy? 
Only he can purchase these 
Who desires them in his heart. 
You and I can never raise 
Any from the lower plane — 
They must raise themselves above 




Sorrow, trouble, evil, woe ! 

We may show them where they stand 

And explain a higher plane, 

But each one must for himself 

Overcome his enemies ! 

Ill 

Hold a harp within your hand 
Tuned in harmony with mine; 
Strike a cord upon your harp — 
Mine will answer to that chord ! 
He whose soul is tuned to sin 
Lieth in an awful thrall, 
For his soul vibrates to all 
Other souls that are in sin. 
Would you ask me how they may 
Rise above the power of sin ? 
Only he can purchase peace 
Who desires it in his heart! 
We may show them where they stand 
And explain a higher plane, 
But each one must for himself 
Tune his heart to love, and so 
Overcome his enemies! 
He whose heart is tuned to love, 
Purity and holiness, 
He will vibrate with those hearts 
In the states of radiance! 
He will sound in unison 
With the Holy Heart of All ! 
So, O soul, it is with us — 
Are we tuned to truth or sin ? 
O remember loving friend 
When you read these truths divine, 
We help exercise a power 
Over all the hearts of men — 
Do we vibrate good or ill ? 




5° 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



IV 

We have reason to believe 
There are sounds to loud and deep 
For the human ear to hear: 
Think of all the countless worlds — 
Planets, suns and nebulae, 
Moving with tremendous speed 
Through the endless sea of space! 
Do the ethers not vibrate 
From the motions of the spheres ? 
Ah, what music ! Ah, what songs 
Ever sing the starry host ! 
Earth joins in the harmony, 
With her voice of praise and peace, 
To the Universal Heart 
From which all things emanate! 

We have reason to believe 
There are sounds too low and soft 
For the human ear to hear : 
Spirit voices from the realm 
Where sweet music ever floats ; 
Where a symphony of bliss 
Through the ether pulses soft — 
Praise and glory — chants of peace 
To the Holy Heart of All 
Whence all things do emanate ! 
Think of how the atoms small 
In their minute orbits sweep ; 
And the wave that bears the light 
From the golden King of Day — 
Do the ethers not vibrate ? 
Who can say but spirit ears 
Are sufficiently acute 
They may hear the atoms small 
In their minute orbits sweep ? 



Who can say but spirit ears 
Are sufficiently acute 
They may hear the waves of light 
Falling from the golden sun ? 

V 

O my brother ! — have you thought 
Every motion, thought or word, — 
Good or bad, and great or small 
Makes an impulse which is felt 
Through the endless Universe ? 

my brother ! — have you thought 
These impulses have effect 

Good or bad forever more? 
Is an impulse which is felt 
Through the endless universe ? 

VI 

As the sensitive can tell 
What is passing silently 
In some other person's mind — 
As our thought impressions flow 
From us to the sensitive, 
Then may not impressions flow 
From the All Enwrapping Mind 
To the minds of us below ? 
Ah, my brother ! here is that 

1 would have you dwell upon. 

VII 

He who holds the will is free — 
He within his heart rebels ! 
There is One Will only free — 
'Tis the Mighty Will of All ! 
All the other wills are bound 
By the chains of circumstance. 
It is not for me to say 



52 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



I am free to do my will ! 

He who places all his trust 

In the Holy Will of All— 

He whose heart and mind is pure 

He indeed is free to do 

What so e'er he wills to do ! 

For the tide of circumstance 

In the end works for the best. 

VIII 

He who prays indeed rebels 
For he knoweth not the best. 
Not for me to bend the knee 
And implore the Holy Heart f 
Better far to put your trust — 
An implicit love and trust 
In the Holy Heart of All : 
Knowing all must needs to be 
Working to His holy plan ! 
Not for me to bend the knee 
And implore the Holy Heart — 
Let me trust undoubtingly 
That great alcontaining Soul 
Of which I am but a part — 
But a minute practicle! 
We were never given tongues 
With which to explain to Him 
How His plan must be fulfilled ; 
For, you honor Him the more 
If you have in Him — the Soul, 
An implicit confidence 
And undoubting love and trust! 
Should the vapors rise and say 
Where the wind should carry it ? 
Then I fear some parts of earth 
Oft would thirst for dew and rain. 




Let me only bend the knee — 
Not to suplicate nor pray — 
But to pour my hearty thanks 
Unto Him who is the All 
And the Soul and Heart of All ! 



IX 

He who thinks forgiveness 
Takes away all pain, 

Let him watch and ponder 
When he errs again. 

O, Thou Ever Present, 
Will men never learn 

That Thy perfect justice 
Gives men all they earn? 

If men plow and scatter 
Seeds of evil, lust, — 

Sorrow, pain and trouble 
Springeth from the dust. 

O, my erring brothers, 
Life is like a field: 

What you plant within it — 
That the earth will yield. 

Sow the seeds of kindness, 
Love and holiness, 

And the crop shall ripen 
Richer than you guess ! 

But, O dearest brother, 
If the seeds you sow 

Be selfishness and evil, 
You shall reap of woe. 



54 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



Justice, holy justice, 
Ever must be stern, — 

Changes not for any, 

Gives men what they earn. 

Put your hand in fire 

Then kneel down and pray — 
Will repentance save you, — 

Take the pain away? 

In the field of being 
Sow contention, tears; 

You shall reap contention 
Through the coming years ! 

O, remember brother, 

Repentance changeth not 

That the earth produces 
For the sowers lot. 

Though repentance changeth 

Not the ills of life, 
Yet it helps you bear them 

Through the after strife. 

Yes, it makes you stronger, 

Gives a better will ; 
And if used correctly 

Helps you bear your ill. 

Hear the Spirit whisper : 
"If you wrong another, 

Go and ask his pardon — 
Be indeed his brother. 

"Nature too forgives you 
When you make amends 

By taking better care of 
The good gifts she sends." 




Memory is that that keeps 
Silent record of all things 
In the mystic halls of brain. 
All you see or hear or think, 
All you do or say or wish 
On your memory is wrote ; — 
In proportion to their strength 
In your character they act. 
Recollection is the act 
Of the consciousness to read 
From the page of memory. 
Some declare that memory 
Keepeth record of all things, — 
What if you could recollect 
All that you had seen or heard, 
Done or wished or thought or said? 
What if all this could arise, 
Would the good predominate 
Or the evil things be more? 
Ah, remember everything 
In proportion to its strength 
On your, character will act. 
Soft the zephyr passes o'er 
Walls of marble, granite, brick ; 
Soft the particles of mist 
Beat upon a palace wall. 
O my my brother, soft they beat 
But they slowly wear away 
Proudest monuments of man! 
In your memory there are 
Many prints so delicate 
Recollection tries in vain 
That your consciousness should read ; 
But, — O brother, they have past — 
Though unconsciously to you — 



In the growth or death of soul. 
And, remember — do not think 
That because you cannot read 
What is graved on memory 
It is safe from every eye — 
There is One — the Mighty Mind, 
He beholds and knows it all. 
Does He judge you ? — no indeed ! 
Though that Silent Soul may know 
All within that judgment book, 
Yet He judges not nor will 
For He knows you judge yourself 
In each word and thought and act! 

XI 

O the beauty of the earth 
Robed in colors rich and fair, — 
Waving greens, a thousand shades 
'Neath the changing blue above. 
See the dew drop like a gem 
Glitters in the morning sun, 
Mocks the star that fades away 
In the crown of dying night. 
But the blind man cannot see 
Nor can understand the talk 
Of his comrade, who enjoys 
Visions of green fields and woods ; 
Beds of flowers; graceful forms; 
Skies where glitter in the night 
Endless sweeps of silent stars — 
Stars a million times as great 
As this little world of ours. 
Though the blind man cannot see, 
They exist and are indeed. 

O the man who never heard 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



Music, music soft and sweet! 
He whose ears are dead to sound 
Knoweth not the mystic touch 
Of sweet music's harmony. 
Though the; deaf man cannot hear, — 
Though he cannot understand, — 
Sounds exist and are indeed. 

O my brother, there are those 
Who can see and hear and feel 
Things 'twere vain for you and I 
In our present state to wish 
We may ever know or feel. 
Yet I ask you is it well 
We should doubt and laugh at him 
Who declares that he can see' 
Things we cannot hope to see? — 
Who declares that he can hear 
Things we cannot hope to hear ? 

XII 

Yesterday I heard a voice 
Saying sadly, saying soft : 
"Is there an eternity? — 
Was there never once a time 
When there was not anything — 
Will there never come a time 
When the nothing swallows all?" 
O, that poor deluded soul 
Building fear on nothingness ! 
Now is the eternity — 
Ever was it, e'er will be. 
Ah, my brother, if you build 
On the now that never is — 
On the present which is not, 
Then your dreams are all in vain. 



58 



SONGS FROM SILENCE. 



Present is not, never was — 
All is future or is past. 
Now, is but the line where meets 
An eternal future, past; 
There is not a mind so great 
Truly can conceive of Now. — 
Ah, my brother, time is not 
But the roll of earth in space ; 
Past and future always are 
But the present never is. 
Build not on the flying line 
Where the future meets the past,- 
'Tis delusion, all a dream, 
Only is eternity — 
Everlasting evermore. 

XIII 

O my Father, I would join 
In the chorus of the spheres — 
I would add my feeble voice 
In a chant of praise to Thee! 
Not that I suppose Thou need'st 
Praise or glory, songs or thanks; 
Not that I suppose it right 
As may duty so to sing — 
For no duty do I owe 
Him who made me that I might 
Fill a place among His plans. 
But I feel that I must sing 
Being full of love and Thee ; 
And my happy heart looks up 
In an ecstasy of joy! 



HYMN TO SOUL 




HYMN TO SOUL. 

Soul! — O Thou sublime Eternal! — 
Thou who knoweth not of ending 
Nor beginning nor of limits 
Nor of times nor measured cycles ! 
Thou! — the Perfect in Perfection — 
Mystic, holy, all enwrapping. 
O we praise Thee ! — O we praise Thee ! 
Sing, O sons of men and praise Him ! 
Sing, O green things, sing and praise Him ! 
Sing, O waters, sing and praise Him ! 
Sing, O world, — O sing and praise Him 
In whose Soul thou art revolving — 
In whose Being is thy being — 
Of whose very Soul and Essence 
Art thou — art thou everlasting ! 
Thou alone, O Soul hast Being! 
Thou alone indeed art Real ! — 
O, unsearchable Almighty 
Let us praise Thee — let us praise Thee! 



THOU ALL! 



Endless praises — endless praises 
Sing the spheres that sweep the skies — 
Endless praises — endless praises 
Must forever more arise! 
Suns and planets, moons and comets 
In their awful orbits move — 
Singing, singing, ever singing: 
"We obey the law of Love !" 
Bend your ear O yearning brother — 
Listen to the singing grass; 
Tis the song all men are seeking 
But they do not hear — alas ! 

"We obey the One Perfection — 
Know no life but One forever! 
Changing, changing, still advancing 
Yet we reach the Perfect — never! 
Laugh! — O sunbeam, glorious, golden, 
Dancing where you flit and fall ! — 
Laugh ! ye rocks among the mountains 
For you are a part of All ! 
Lichens, mosses, grasses, insects, 
Animals and men aspire 
For the stages yet beyond them — 
For a being that is higher. 
Upward, upward, never ending, 



Working out the Plan of life — 
To the eye that understands not 
Seeming like an endless strife! 
All is unison and patience--^ 
'Tis the working of the God! 
All enwrapping Soul of wonder 
We adore Thee from the sod!" 

Would you ask for joy and pleasure 
You must learn to sacrifice — 
There is nothing in creation 
You may scorn or dare dispise ! 
All is love — one love and family 
And Soul the Parent true — 
What -He bids, O listning brother — 
What He asks of you — do! 
Holy Soul in silence dwelling, 
Thou whom we adore — 
Endless praises ever to Thee 
Sound forever more! 
Solids, liquids, passes, spirits, 
Sacrifice themselves to Thee ! 
O, Thou mighty Allcontaining 
Endless may Thy praises be ! 

Where the lonely forest stretches 
In the wild, primeval manner — 
Over mountains rough and rockey, 
Over notches and deep valleys, 
There I love to seek and know Thee 
O Thou mystic, holy Real ! 
Where the fern frond waving, waving 
Catches at its laughing shadow, 
There I meet Thy brooding Spirit 
O Thou Source and Soul of All! 



62 THOU ALL. 



O glory, glory, glory be 
To Thee, Thou Holy Heart of All ! 
And let creation worship Thee — 
For Thou art holiest of all ! 



~M) FINIS. 



~^2*cy^ 



